


Unlonely

by nursedrangus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: F/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 11:15:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21897991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nursedrangus/pseuds/nursedrangus
Summary: Two people meet on an insignificant Tuesday at an insignificant bar in an insignificant part of Boston.
Relationships: Chris Evans (Actor)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	1. Prologue: The First Tuesday

Penny was a decidedly lonely, though not by accident. If there was one thing she had learned, it’s that forming relationships would only lead to pain and suffering. With that in mind, aside from acquaintances and professional relationships, she made the choice to keep herself free from the pain that came with letting people in. 

She didn’t even own a pet. Her apartment was largely void of photographs, with only a single portrait resting on her nightstand. Her shelves were devoid of knickknacks and vacation souvenirs, but loaded with scientific journals, memoirs, and out of print textbooks.   
  
Penny wasn’t the type of person to get attached. People, things, places, it didn’t matter, she could do better without sentimentality

This was true anyway, until she walked passed the diviest of dive bars in a random part of Boston. On her way home from her second day of classes, classes she was taking in what could be a misguided attempt at her PhD, she decided to try a different route than the previous day. This was in an attempt to get to know her new city and scope out potential places from which to order takeout. 

Four blocks from her sixth floor walk up, she found what would become the catalyst and backdrop for some of the biggest changes in her life. 

Had she known this, she might not have lugged her overstuffed backpack through the door and to the corner booth. Had she known her lifestyle would be thrown into a tailspin, she would not have ordered a pint of dark beer as she flipped open her laptop and spread out books and notes and pens of different colors.

The bar was empty with a single bartender behind the counter. Booths with vinyl upholstery and scratched tables lined the walls, and wooden 4 top tables dotted the surprisingly large floor space. 

She smiled then. This place would do nicely.   
  



	2. The Fourth and Fifth Tuesdays

The thing Chris appreciated the most about his favorite dive bar was that it was almost always empty. So empty, in fact, he wasn’t sure how they managed to stay open until he drove passed one Friday to see the crowd overflowing onto the sidewalk with a doorman selectively letting people in.   
  


As such, it became his bar of choice whenever he was in town and wanted to grab an uninterrupted drink without a crowd of spectators. This particular Tuesday, he had been sure he was the only patron when he ordered a pint of beer. So sure, that when he heard a loud thud followed by a mumbled curse, he jumped and turned in his barstool towards the source of the noise. All he could make out of the person was dark red hair piled into and falling out of a messy bun. The person glanced up, her brown eyes meet his, and she grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” she mouthed, picking a large book off the floor. Chris returned her smile, waving off her apology as he returned his attention to his beer.   
  


Now that he was aware of the other person’s presence, he couldn’t help but be on edge. She looked young, and with the books, it was obvious to him that she was a student. The last thing he wanted was for the public to learn of his favorite hangout. Pulling his ball cap down over his forehead, he snuck glances at the woman. From what he could tell, he no longer had her attention. In fact, he could hear her muttering under her breath as she typed while she read. Every so often he’d hear a book open and pages flutter as she flipped through, looking for something. He began to relax, thinking she hadn’t recognized him and he wouldn’t have to find a new secret spot to chill during his time home. 

Chris had nearly forgotten about her when felt a presence nearby. He looked up from his beer to see the woman standing at the bar, arms resting on the hard surface. “Another one, Penny?” The bartender asked her.   
  


“You know me so well, Pete,” she smiled as she knocked lightly in the bar. Penny glanced in Chris’ direction. “You’ll let me know if I’m making too much noise? I don’t want to disturb you.”   
  


“You’re fine,” he replied, taking in her appearance. She was dressed casually in jeans and a too big sweatshirt. The bartender slid Penny’s drink in front of her, and she picked the glass up before raising it slightly in a mock toast. Chris returned her gesture before she turned and walked back to her table. 

Finishing his beer, Chris settled his tab and pulled his jacket on. Barely the end of September, and there was already a chill in the air. He snuck a final glance at the young woman as he left. She was now writing furiously in the margins of the largest text book. Chris could make out a series of grafts and diagrams before she swiftly turned the page and whispered “Ah! Gotcha!”   
  


Grinning to himself, he opened the door and stepped outside. By the time he made it home, Penny was all but forgotten.   
  


* * *

She was later than usual to the bar. A mishap in the lab had caused a frantic evacuation, and she had had to wait until the building was clear before she could grab the rest of her belongings. Penny backed into the door, her arms full of books and journals checked out from the library. A massive research paper was due in just a few weeks time, and she had more than half to draft out before she could even begin revisions. Dumping her items unceremoniously on the table of her booth, she gestured to the bartender. Pete nodded, understanding her hand signals, and grabbed a glass from under the counter. It was then she noticed the man at the bar. His back was to her, but the slope of his shoulders and Red Sox hat told her it was the same man from the week before. With no time for pleasantries, she returned her attention to unpacking the rest of her materials. After slamming a book particularly loudly, she flicked her eyes to the stranger at the bar. He was staring right at her, a bemused expression on his face.

”Hello, again,” he nodded. 

Penny smiled tightly, flopping into the booth and beginning her work. She only looked up to thank the bartender, all attention focused on the screen in front of her. She didn’t even notice the conversation happening at the bar. 

* * *

Chris had all but forgotten about the woman from the week before, but he recognized her immediately. He also noticed the vast amount of reading material she had with her. “She’s more of a regular than you,” Pete commented, noticing how Chris’ attention kept being drawn to the corner booth. “Here every Tuesday since the end of last month.” 

“She looks too young to be in a bar,” Chris commented, throwing another glance at the woman. Her head was in her hand as she tapped a pen against the tabletop.   
  


“She isn’t. I’ve seen her ID, remember?” Pete looked thoughtful for a minute. “I think she’s in grad school. Something with science. Forensics maybe?” He shrugged then, pulling out a clipboard as he began to inventory the bottles lining the shelves above the bar.

Chris stayed a little longer than he had the week before, telling himself it was because he was really into the baseball game on the single television mounted in the corner of the bar. In reality, he was a little intrigued by the woman with dark red hair. 


	3. The Seventh Tuesday

She learned his name was Chris two weeks later. Penny was just setting up her space, preparing to give her research paper a final once over before it was due on Friday. The door chimed, and in he walked with his ever present hat perched on his head. She watched as he shucked his jacket, nodding a greeting at Pete.

”Hey Chris,” the bartender said, returning his nod. She had never paid close attention to this person, but now that she realized they had shared the same space weekly for several weeks, she was curious. Not curious enough to shirk her paper, but curious nonetheless. 

As it turned out, her paper could have been ignored. She had been so thorough when drafting it, that only minor edits were needed. After briefly glancing to check her reference page, she realized that barely more than an hour had passed. Cheering to herself silently, she saved her paper and backed it up in a flash drive. Turning her computer off, she packed her bag, wondering what she should do with the extra time she’d allotted to work. A loud guffaw at the bar answered her question.   
  


* * *

She was no longer in the corner booth when Chris returned from the bathroom. This briefly surprised Chris, because she was always there at least the entire time he was in the past. His confusion dissipated and immediately returned when he saw her sitting at the bar, two seats from his own seat. She had an empty shot glass in front of her, a wedge of lime between her teeth.   
  


“Are we celebrating?” Chris heard himself ask as he sat next to her.   
  


“A bit,” she nodded, a smirk on her face. “First assignment of my doctoral studies is in the bag.”

”A doctorate? Wow that’s, wow.” Chris was impressed by this woman. Something was nagging at him though. “You must be really smart to be working on a doctorate as young as you are. How old are you? 22?”

She immediately laughed as she shook her head. “Well aren’t you sweet? Guess the lighting in here is better than I thought.” She continued to chuckle as she motioned for another round. A shot glass rimmed with salt and full of clear liquor was placed in front of each of them, two lime wedges on a saucer.   
  


“C’mon. We’re celebrating my accomplishments and youthful looks,” she knocked the shot back and stared him down until he did the same. “I’m 33, but thank you,” she said when he finished. 

* * *

Penny had to chuckle at his facial expression when she revealed her age. He looked equal parts confused and impressed by what she could only assume was her skincare routine. Now that she was sitting next to him, she could see he was handsome in the conventional way.

Penny had a nagging sense she’d seen him somewhere before. 

”Penny,” she said, sticking out her hand. Chris reached across the seat between them and grasped her hand.

”Chris,” he said, that amused expression on his face again. 

“Nice to meet you. For the record, I’m not going to sleep with you,” she declared, drinking from the bottle of beer Pete just sat in front of her. 

If Chris was shocked by her statement, he didn’t show it. “What an odd thing to say,” he mused. 

“Is it though?” She asked, looking him full in the face. He leaned forward, as though he were waiting for an answer. “Think about it. I’m a woman in a bar, you’re a man in a bar. I just bought you a drink. You complimented me. Now, that’s usually a recipe for someone thinking the other wants to sleep with them. Therefore, I’m putting it out there that it’s not going to happen.” 

Chris sat back in his chair, contemplating her statement and explanation. “Okay. Point taken,” he smiled. She’d expected him to become irritated with her or otherwise turn his attention elsewhere. “Except the part where you bought me a drink. Pete?” he said as he brought out his wallet. “Put whatever she had on my tab. Congrats on finishing your paper,” he said as he put his card on the bar. His smile was so genuine, she knew he wasn’t upset or offended by her statement. 

“You don’t have to-“

”Think of it as a midterm present,” he said, cutting her off. Pete handed his card back to him. Sliding it back into his wallet, he stood and grabbed his jacket. “See you next week!” Chris smiled once more as he turned to leave. “Next round is on you!” he called over his shoulder. 

The door shut behind him, a gust of cold air left in his wake. 

Downing the rest of her beer, she slowly gathered her things, the effects of the alcohol making her movements slow and deliberate. “See ya, Pete,” she said as she stepped outside, her interesting night on her mind her whole walk home. 


	4. The  Wednesday After the 18th Tuesday

Penny was a Tuesday regular. That was her thing, at least until this week. Finals had ended, and she had aced everything. She would normally not be at her favorite bar on a Wednesday, except for the fact her last lab had been scheduled when she would normally have been in her favorite booth. This is how she found herself in a different booth on a different night of the week.   
  


Penny hadn’t seen Chris since that Tuesday in October. She had all but put him out of her mind when the door chimed.   
  


* * *

Chris was finally home on a much needed break after a grueling press tour. He would normally not visit his favorite bar on a Wednesday, especially since he wasn’t sure how crowded it would be or what kind of people it drew on this particular night. However, he was desperate for some normalcy, and that’s how he found himself walking inside, the bell clanging against the door frame.

Seeing every barstool at the counter full dampened his spirits. His eyes frantically scanned the room, searching for an inconspicuous spot to sit and enjoy a beer. That’s when he saw her in a two person booth crammed into the corner of the room. 

Penny. 

A glass filled with light brown liquid rested on the table, her fingers absentmindedly circling the rim as she read- 

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for Harry Potter,” he teased, sitting across from her. 

Penny startled slightly, dropping the book into her lap. “Holy shit!” she laughed. “I thought you had died or something.” Chris could see the drink in front of her wasn’t her first by the openness in her eyes. He hasn’t seen that when they first met. 

”Died! What?” Chris was laughing too as Pete sat a huge mug of his favorite beer in front of him, a tradition whenever he returned after an extended period a way. Taking a drink he said, “Pretty sure that would’ve been all over Twitter had it happened.” 

Penny downed the drink in front her, a confused look on her face as she motioned to Pete for another. ”Why the hell would your death be ‘all over Twitter’?” 

Now it was Chris’ turn to look confused. “Do you-“ No. He wouldn’t ask that question. “Nevermind. What are we celebrating?” he motioned toward her empty glass being swapped with a full one by Pete. 

Penny threw both arms over her head. “Finals are over!” She laughed then, dancing in her seat a little before raising her glass towards his. 

Her joy was infectious, and Chris whooped loudly, clinking his glass with hers. “What are you studying, anyway?” 

”The short answer?” Chris nodded. “Biochemistry.” 

“Shit. You must be smart,” Chris leaned forward.

”No. I just don’t have distractions.” Penny leaned her elbow on the table, her chin in her hand. Chris saw a look of something he couldn’t identify Blur her features before she reeled it in. ”What do you do?” 

Chris nearly choked on his beer. The question was genuine. She really had no idea. Penny gazed at him expectantly. He took a deep breath, “I’m an actor.”

”What, like local theater?” He had to laugh then, but stopped abruptly when he saw she was, again, serious. 

“Not so much anymore. You really don’t know?” He knew at this point, she didn’t. She shrugged, looking both confused and curious.

”What was the last movie you saw?”

”Um, let’s see,” she closed her eyes, apparently thinking hard. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve actively watched a movie since The Nanny Diaries.” At this, Chris threw his hands in the air, laughing incredulously. ”What?” Penny asked, looking slightly miffed. “It was a cute movie. I was going through a rough time, and it was a good distraction. Not to mention the male lead was nice to look at.”

“Was he now?” Chris asked, a teasing tone to his voice.

”Yes. I wonder if he is still acting,” she wondered aloud, taking another drink from her glass. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening.

She snorted into her glass then, her eyes meeting his over the glass. That’s when he knew.

”Oh come on!” He was laughing loudly, bouncing his forehead lightly on the table between them. 

”I couldn’t help myself,” she said, joining in his laughter. 

”When did you figure it out?” 

”That Tuesday Night in October, after I got home. The facial hair threw me off. I may live under a pile of textbooks, but Marvel movies are the soundtrack to my studies.” 

”Well, shit,” he smiled, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

”Because you looked like you wanted to be left alone.”

They grew serious then. “Thank you,” he said quietly, meeting her eyes again. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand then, squeezing for emphasis. “Really. Thank you.” 

Penny suddenly looked nervous. Yanking her hand from his, she stood. “I should go. It’s late,” she started putting on her coat, her movements hurried. 

“Wait,” Chris said as he stood. “Did I do something? Don’t leave yet.”

”No,” she said, waving him off. “No. It’s fine. I just...I should go. Merry Christmas, Chris.” She quickly dig into her purse and threw $20 on the table before walking out the door so fast, Chris couldn’t react. He threw another $20 on the table, pulling his own jacket on as he rushed out the door, hoping to catch her.

He didn’t.   
  


* * *

Penny had figured out who Chris was when she went home that Tuesday night in October. She’d been so busy, she hasn’t seen either Infinity War or Endgame. Since she had finished her paper, she decided to treat herself to the former, settling into her favorite overstuffed chair at the intro played. She was so enthralled by the time Wanda and Vision were corned in the train station that she shrieked when a bearded Steve Rogers appeared from the shadows. She had been sharing her study space with Captain-fucking-America for weeks. 

This was why, when she found herself sitting across from him that Wednesday before Christmas, she decided to have a little fun at his expense. She knew she was flirting, but the three shots of whiskey in her system told her she didn’t care.

She didn’t care up until he grabbed her hand. 

Then, all she cared about was putting distance between herself and the sweet man across the table. 


End file.
